[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

The target range was unusually busy for a lazy Friday afternoon in November. It was a cool day, with
a nice nip in the air. Meredith felt good in the down vest. It was one she'd often worn when she went to
the firing range with Mike in cold weather. Coats were cumbersome and often got in the way of a
good, quick aim.
Rey and Leo stopped to pass the time of day with two elderly shooters, both of whom gave Meredith a
warm welcome.
"This is Jack, and that's Billy Joe," Rey introduced the white-haired men, one of whom was tall and
spare, the other overweight and short. The short one had walked briskly the short distance from the
red pickup truck parked at the clubhouse, and he was out of breath already.
"We all go to district, state and national shoots as a team from our club."
"But we get honorable mention, and Rey wins the medals," Billy Joe, the shorter man, chuckled, still
trying to catch his breath. "We don't mind. We're just happy that somebody from our club breaks
records!"
"Amen to that," Jack agreed, smiling.
"All right, let's get to shooting," Billy Joe said, turning back to his truck. "Stay where you are, Jack.
I'll bring your gun, too!"
He turned back toward the truck, rushing and still breathless. Meredith frowned. His cheeks were
unnaturally pink, and it wasn't that cold. His complexion was almost white. He was sweating. She knew
the symptoms. She'd seen them all too often.
"You might go with him," Meredith said abruptly, interrupting Jack's banter with Rey.
"Excuse me?" Jack asked.
Just at that moment, Billy Joe stopped, stood very still for a minute, and then buckled and fell forward
into a crumpled heap at the door of his truck.
Meredith took off at a dead run. "Somebody get me a cell phone!" she called as she ran.
Leo fumbled his out of the holder on his belt and passed it to her as she knelt beside Billy Joe.
"Get his feet elevated. Find something to cover him with," she shot at the other men. She was dialing
while she spoke. She loosened the man's shirt, propping the phone against her ear—the worst way to
hold it, but there was no other way at the moment—and felt down Billy Joe's chest for his diaphragm.
"Get his wallet and read me his weight and age from his driver's license," she added with a sharp
glance in Leo's direction.
Leo dug out the wallet and started calling out information, while Rey and Jack stood beside the fallen
man and watched with silent concern.
"I want the resident on duty in the emergency room, stat," she said. "This is Meredith Johns. I have a
patient, sixty years of age, one hundred and eighty pounds, who collapsed without warning. Early
signs indicate a possible myocardial infarction. Pulse is thready," she murmured, checking the second
hand of her watch as she took his pulse with her fingertips,
"forty beats a minute, breathing shallow and labored, grey complexion, profuse sweating. I need
EMTs en route, I am initiating cardiopulmonary resuscitation now."
There was a long pause, and a male voice came over the line. With her voice calm and steady,
Meredith gave the information again, and then handed the phone to Leo as she bent over the elderly
man and did the spaced compressions over his breastbone, followed by mouth-to-mouth breathing.
Rey was watching, spellbound at her proficiency, at the easy and quite professional manner in which
she'd taken charge of a life-or-death emergency. Within five minutes, the ambulance was screaming
up the graveled road that led to the Jacobsville Gun Club, and Billy Joe was holding his own.
The EMTs listened to Meredith's terse summary of events as they called the same resident Meredith
had been talking to.
"Doc says to give you a pat on the back," the female EMT grinned at Meredith as they loaded Billy
Joe onto the ambulance. "You sure knew what to do."
"Yes," Rey agreed, finding his tongue at last. "You've obviously had first-aid training."
He probably meant it as praise, but it hit Meredith in the gut. She glared at him. "What I've had," she
emphasized, "is five years of college. I have a master's degree in nursing science, and I'm a card-
carrying nurse practitioner!"
Seven
Rey stared at his new cook as if she'd suddenly sprouted feathers on her head. His summation of her
abilities was suddenly smoke. She was someone he didn't even know. She was a health care
professional, not a flighty cook, and certainly not the sort of woman to streetwalk as a sideline.
She nodded solemnly. "I figured it would come as a shock," she told him. She turned her attention
back to the EMTs. "Thanks for being so prompt. Think he'll be okay?"
The female EMT smiled. "I think so. His heartbeat's stronger, his breathing is regular, and he's
regaining consciousness. Good job!"
She grinned. "You, too."
They waved and took off, lights flashing, but without turning on the sirens.
"Why aren't the sirens going?" Rey wanted to know. "He's not out of danger yet, surely?"
"They don't like to run the sirens unless they have to," Meredith told him. "Some people actually run
off the road and wreck their cars because the sirens rattle them. They use the lights, but they only turn
on the sirens if they hit heavy traffic and have to force their way through it.
Those EMTs," she added with a smile, "they're the real heroes and heroines. They do the hardest job
of all."
"You saved Billy Joe's life," Jack said huskily, shaking her hand hard. "He's the best friend I got.
Thank you."
She smiled gently and returned the handshake. "It goes with the job description. Don't try to keep up
with the ambulance," she cautioned when he went toward Billy Joe's truck, which still had the key in
the ignition. The two men had come together.
"I'll be careful," the older man promised.
"Whew!" Leo let out the breath he'd almost been holding, and put up his cell phone.
"You're one cool lady under fire, Meredith."
She smiled sadly. "I've had to be," she replied. She glanced at Rey, who looked cold and angry as it
occurred to him, belatedly, that she'd played him for a fool. "I can see what you're thinking, but I
didn't actually lie to you. You never asked me exactly what I did for a living. Of course, you thought
you already knew," she added with faint sarcasm.
He didn't reply. He gave her a long, contemptuous look and turned away. "I've lost my taste for
practice," he said quietly. "I want to go on to the hospital and see about Billy Joe." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]